Musings on Life And Love From a Bonafide Conservative Genius

Slaughterhouse-Fifty

One of the greatest benefits of being as disgustingly wealthy as I am is that money is never an issue. Want a yacht? Buy it. Want a new luxury SUV? Buy two. Want a woman? Buy as many as will fill your bed — comfortably or not. But that’s not the point.

The point is, I had bacon for breakfast. Fifty slices of bacon to be precise, each slice exactly 12 inches long before cooking. And every one of those hand-cut slices came from a different pig. The rest of those pigs? Tossed out with the garbage. My butler, Montgomery, had the temerity to object to this plan once he was done extracting the bacon.

“But sir!” he said. “I could make more of my delicious scrapple with the leftovers. Why waste the lot of them? Wot wot!”

“Montgomery,” I said, “when you’re as rich as I am, you never have to use the same pig twice. Run down to the butcher’s and buy some more pigs if you have the urge to make scrapple. Lord knows I won’t complain.”

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January 20th, 2017

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Most persons and all events depicted on this blog are fictitious and none of it should be taken seriously. The views and opinions expressed by Oswald J. Carver III are not shared by the author, save for those regarding the attractiveness of big butts on women and general awesomeness of '70s rock music.